I once saw a beautiful tiger. She lay on her paws, seated like a royalty that she is. Her orange fur is beautiful and she has the most striking yellow eyes. She was amazing, intimidating… and trapped.
She was beautiful yet heartbreaking to look at.
I once saw a beautiful tiger. Not in the woods nor in the jungle where she’s supposed to be, but inside bars with dull, gray cement and a big plate for her food. Is she even being fed well enough? Where’s the patch of soft grass where she should lay to sleep?
I once saw a beautiful tiger. She wasn’t running nor strutting. She wasn’t walking freely as if it’s her territory and she is the one in control. She was just sitting there on her paws where I once thought she looked like the royalty she is, but in reality, she was tired, lonely, and deprived of her home.
I once saw a beautiful tiger. She was looking at the eyes of every passerby, looking cautious and weary when she’s supposed to be the exact opposite. She’s surrounded by loud voices and fingers pointing at her – some in pure awe and some in mockery.
I hope I won’t see a beautiful tiger anymore. I don’t want her to feel threatened when she should be the one that’s threatening. I don’t want to see her starve until they’re skin and bones. I don’t want to see her uncomfortable in the ground she’s walking and laying on.
She should be the one feared. She should be the one radiating confidence and strength. She should be the one oozing a commanding presence because that is who she is.
I hope I won’t see a beautiful tiger anymore. I hope she won’t be near human civilization and out in the wild—running freely and living like a magnificent creature that she is.